


you will not recognize me (this time, I put my pieces back differently)

by fauchevalent



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: angst but also some family fluff?, basically just a lot of baby oneshots, doc n waverly are missing bc post s3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 11:03:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16596656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fauchevalent/pseuds/fauchevalent
Summary: Nicole huffed out something like a laugh and moved her hand, shoving both into her back pockets. "Alright." She paused for a beat, taking a look around the room. "You need help hanging stuff?"She didn't, really. In fact, she was almost done."Yeah. Sounds great, Haughtstuff."-- or, I read Moving On and almost exploded with how absolutely wonderful it is and needed to write about healing from trauma anyway





	1. birthday girl

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Moving On (Is this Real?)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16593146) by [brunetteandblond](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brunetteandblond/pseuds/brunetteandblond). 



> @ brunetteandblond I would DIE for your wynhaught brotp fic and I wanted to play in that space a little! the concept belongs to them and the characters belong to wearp, but this is truthfully such a wonderful take, I wanted to see what I could do with it.

The Earp family was notoriously bad at birthdays-- so much so that Wynonna herself had purposefully missed her own earlier this year-- but they were determined to celebrate Alice's as happily as they could, given the circumstances. Wynonna had gone out into town over the weekend to get party supplies and had even gone to the effort of inviting Nedley and Mercedes to the table for the afternoon. It wasn't easy to be the happy, celebrating mother when her sister and Doc were still... who knows where, but she was determined to make the day as lighthearted as she could. Her little girl deserved that.

Nicole found her in the kitchen, hanging up balloons. The sheriff's steps were soft, almost too quiet for Wynonna to hear.

"She asleep?"

"Jesus Christ, Haught. Wear a bell or something." The words slipped from her lips before Wynonna could even think on them, and as soon as they were spoken, her face closed off, remembering the last time she'd said something similar to a different man of the law. Nicole, still wary around her, stepped closer and laid a hand on Wynonna's arm.

"Hey." She carefully ran her thumb over Wynonna's elbow, soothing her as best she could without breaching the cautious borders they'd drawn around themselves. "You doing okay?"

Wynonna's eyes fell shut, and she inhaled through her nose, her chest rising and falling a few times before they opened again. "Sure." She mumbled, leaning unconsciously into Nicole's hand. "Doin' great."

Nicole huffed out something like a laugh and moved her hand, shoving both into her back pockets. "Alright." She paused for a beat, taking a look around the room. "You need help hanging stuff?"

She didn't, really. In fact, she was almost done.

"Yeah. Sounds great, Haughtstuff."

Nicole seemed to understand and made no move to rush the decorating process, instead hanging beside Wynonna for each balloon, handing it to her and slowly ripping a piece of tape to stick it with. Each time, she made a big fuss of acting like she'd lost the end of the roll and took a beat to relocate it. Wynonna made no attempt to stop her facade, simply watching her each time with a growing calm. 

"The terrible two's," Nicole said, finally breaking the silence. "We ready for those?"

Wynonna smiled despite herself, making note of the chosen pronoun. "Dunno," she said, taking another piece of tape from Nicole, "guess we're probably better prepared for it than most, with the seventy-seven damn infants we handled already."

Nicole let out a bark of laughter that seemed to surprise her. "Yeah," she said, shaking her head, "Guess you're right."

Wynonna held the last balloon between her fingertips for an extra half second. Her smile stayed intact as she looked down at Nicole from her place on the step stool. "Usually am, Haught." She said, watching the corners of Nicole's mouth tilt upwards. "Usually am."

From Alice's room, there was a screeching cry that told both mother and aunt that she was all done with her nap. They looked at each other for another moment, finding an understanding, and Nicole held out her arm to help Wynonna down the ladder.

"Mind if I come with?" She asked, and Wynonna shook her head.

"Not at all."

At the end of the hallway, to the right, Alice Michelle Earp was sitting flush against four pillows, cradling one between two tiny fists. Her crying slowed as Wynonna entered the room and slowed further, almost to a stop, as Nicole followed. She made a noise that sounded like "mama," though it was hidden under snot, and Wynonna nodded.

"I'm coming, babygirl." She soothed, and Nicole held back, watching mother and daughter reach for each other and take hold, Wynonna scooping up her daughter in her arms and Alice finding purchase on Wynonna's t-shirt to grip onto. Alice leaned her head against her mother and Nicole heard a soft sound that was akin to a lullaby, low and thrumming in Wynonna's chest. Alice appeared to be on the edge of sleep again, but she made a slow, halting movement of one little arm toward Nicole. Completely taken by the little girl, Nicole crossed the room in a few swift steps until she was directly beside Wynonna, reaching out and cradling Alice's hand in her own. From beside her, Wynonna smiled again, watching the moment with the sort of distance that marred most of her and Nicole's (or anyone's) exchanges. Wynonna's lullaby was louder from this close, and as she swayed closer to the pair, Nicole could almost feel it in her own chest, vibrating gently. Without realizing, Nicole had pressed her shoulder and most of the rest of her completely up against Wynonna, but neither made any move to change the arrangement. Alice's grasp tightened and then waned as she fell asleep, and Nicole felt more than saw Wynonna's body tense before it loosened, her weight falling more-so against Nicole.

Nicole cooed gently at the little girl as Wynonna set her back down, and watched Wynonna blink, taking a second to compose herself before turning back to Nicole.

"Well, Red, I guess its time to put the final touches up, before the birthday girl decides sleep is for the weak again."

Nicole smiled, looking to Wynonna's eyes and feeling, for the first time in a long time, that both of them were making some progress. "Yeah," she replied, finally, "sounds good."


	2. then don't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> op, did you know you personally killed me with these two words? no? now you do.

It was approaching the low thirties in Purgatory-- not cold enough to snow, not yet, but there was a sudden inability to go outside without gloves and a coat on anymore-- and the homestead baseboards were doing their level best to keep up with the dropping temperatures. Wynonna hugged her blanket closer around her shoulders and shivered despite, hearing the familiar creak below her of Nicole descending the stairs. She stayed in bed for a half a second longer, long enough to make sure the step's pattern wouldn't change and that the redhead would move, once again, toward the door, before following in her footsteps. She brought her blanket with her, inching the door open quietly, her eyes meeting the back of Nicole's head, the rest of her hunched over on the front steps.

"Haught..." she murmured, crouching down beside her, "come inside." Wynonna wrapped her arm around Nicole's shoulders, sharing the warmth of the blanket with her. It was much more tactile comfort than usually exchanged between the two-- much more _comfort_ than usual, since most of their interactions still held the shroud of teasing and bickering that had been so easy to use when Waverly was still around to make them play nice despite their pretended dramatics. Sure, Wynonna had covered some more distance when she broke the redhead of her drinking habits and the two had been drawn closer together by moments with Alice, but much of their time together was still distant. Confused. Uncertain as to what comfort was available and how to use it. It had been months since Alice came back, more still since Waverly and Doc's disappearance, and they were coming up on Alice's second birthday in the homestead-- her third, overall. Still, the pair danced around each other, unsure how to comfort each other beyond drawing on Alice's light and joy.

"I hate sleeping alone," Nicole replied quietly, her cheeks shining with tears. She drew her hand across her face to clear them and Wynonna watched, feeling helpless. Obviously, sleeping in the homestead was hard-- obviously sleeping anywhere was hard, but the homestead, without Waverly... it must be worse to wake up and roll, looking for Waverly beside her and find nothing, then it was to simply not sleep at all. Wynonna couldn't fix that. She had her own difficulties sleeping, and telling Nicole sleeping was what they would want, taking care of herself was something they would want... well, pot, meet kettle.

"So don't," she said, suddenly, the words out of her mouth before she could overthink them. Nicole blinked, and Wynonna knew that a year ago, she'd be making a joke to get out of this situation-- something about "I know I'm not your preferred Earp," to avoid staring the re-instated sheriff in the eyes and breaking down another one of their shared walls. Now, though, the words came liberatingly free of humor-- she needed comfort as much as Nicole, and there was something genuinely good for both of them in understanding that without being a prick about it. Wynonna stood, cautiously, dropping the arm closer to Nicole to allow the blanket to continue hanging over her, and watched Nicole's reaction. Nicole stood a beat later, picking up her end of the blanket and tightening it around herself and Wynonna. Together, they made their way up the creaking homestead stairs, stopping awkwardly in front of Wynonna's room. It was sickeningly quiet in the house, Alice asleep as can be and the only other two in the whole damn house standing wordlessly beside each other in the dim light of the moon coming through Wynonna's blinds.

Wynonna was the first to move through the doorway, creeping out from beneath the blanket and settling in on her mattress with a soft  _creak_. That left Nicole, blanket loose around her shoulders and hair damp from a shower earlier that night, looking like a ghost under the glow of the moonlight. Wynonna adjusted herself, scooting further to one side, and looked up at Nicole, trying her best to move slowly and seem non-threatening, as if she was dealing with a wild animal. Nicole presented like a wild animal, like a doe on the edge of the woods, as her tense form came to rest beside Wynonna. It seemed like any sudden movement would cause her to bolt, but Wynonna felt the need to press further. Another wall, she knew, crashing down, as she carefully leaned closer to the redhead, bed screeching like the loudest thing she'd ever heard all the while, and coiled an arm around her-- loose enough that Nicole could move it if she wanted to. 

She didn't. Wynonna felt Nicole's body relax against her own, heartbeat moving to slow down, and slipped her other arm under Nicole, both arms around her waist and meeting cautiously together, knitted to keep Nicole close to her. One of Nicole's hands found hers and pressed against them, a wordless thanks. 

A year ago, Wynonna would never have identified Nicole Haught as her best friend-- would  _definitely_ never have curled against her, protective and protected. But, she supposed, a lot changes in a year.


	3. daddy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> op, did you know this single scene added thirty-three years to my life? thank you for this gift

At four years old, Alice had a majority of Purgatory wrapped around her little finger. Every day, she looked more and more like her mother, a perfect mini-replica of the woman who'd done so much to keep her safe, and Nicole couldn't thank either of them enough.

It was fitting, she guessed, the two women who kept getting her through the day, and they looked nearly identical.

It had been a little over two years since Waverly and Doc had been lost, and every day, Nicole and Wynonna became stronger. They worked flawlessly as a pair, passing off Alice between one another and caring for her so completely that the little girl never wanted for anything. On a spring day, rare in its good nature for Purgatory, the three were playing in the backyard of the homestead, one of the imagination games that Alice loved. This one involved superheroes, and, of course, flying. Every time  _Super Alice_ had to go save the world, she would launch herself into Nicole's arms and raise her hands above her head, ready to be lifted into the air. 

Wynonna was, obviously, also an important part of the game, but she was another player--  _Super Mama_ , usually, which made both Wynonna and Nicole grin at each other and Alice every time it was said. 

"Super Mama!" Alice yelled with four-year-old lungs that might rival her mother's, "It's time to go save people again!" She made a little tooting noise, like her own theme song, and Wynonna saluted with a smile.

"Of course, Super Alice," she replied, making eye contact with Nicole as Alice ran into her arms and mouthing "think we can get her to say Purgatory?" Nicole chuckled and mouthed back "too many r's." An impatient little hand tugged on Nicole's sleeve. 

" _Daddy_ ," Alice groaned, "Super Alice has to fly now!"

Nicole froze in place, and despite her best efforts, Wynonna burst out laughing. Super Alice, having not been shot into flight, looked up to see Nicole's reaction and immediately turned bright red. 

"'M sorry, Auntie! Didn't mean to! Auntie Nicky, please say it's okay!"

Nicole shook herself out of her stupor and scooped the little girl up. "Hey, hey, Alice. It's okay, I'm not mad."

"You aren't?"

"Course not, babygirl," Wynonna butted in, scooching across the grass to sit beside Nicole. "We would never be mad about something like this."

Nicole nodded and Alice looked suspicious. "But I'm sorry."

"But you don't have to be, sweetie." Nicole told her. "In fact, you shouldn't be. It's okay."

Wynonna made a sound in agreement and squeezed her daughter's shoulder comfortingly. Alice still looked shaken, so Nicole added, "You can call me that, if you want." She opened her arms and offered Alice a hug, which the little girl took without pause, clinging tightly.

"Yeah, babygirl! Please keep calling Auntie Nicky 'Dad.' She's your other parent, anyway." Wynonna agreed, leaning in to join the hug. Nicole lifted her eyes to meet Wynonna's and tried to convey how much this meant to her, tried to say "thank you" and "I love you" and "holy fuck" all at once, without words. It seemed to get across because Wynonna's eyes softened and she reached across Alice to lace her fingers with Nicole's. 

"Okay, daddy!" Alice said, exploding between the two women, "now Super Alice has to  _fly_!"

Nicole chuckled as the hug broke apart and she lifted Alice into the air, grinning. "Alright, little miss, where to?"

"The moon!" Alice commanded, though it sounded more like _oon_ , and Nicole and Wynonna met each other's eyes again and smiled. 

She was definitely not going to say  _Purgatory_ any time soon.


	4. parent teacher night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alice is unforgivingly adoring of her family, guys

"Do you think we can get out of this still, Haught? Tell her we're sick and shoot an email later?"

Nicole rolled her eyes, staring up at the poster board sign adorned with stars and smiley faces, and offered her arm to Wynonna. "C'mon,  _mom_. Don't wuss out on hearing how great your daughter is."

Wynonna huffed good-naturedly and bumped against Nicole, slotting her arm into the proffered space. "Alright,  _dad_ , but if she asks how things are going at home, I'm crawling out that tiny window above the radiator."

"Deal," Nicole said, chuckling, and straightened up before following the arrows on handmade signs until they stood in front of room 112A, which had its own little sign proclaiming "Ms. Kitt, in here!" Though she'd been relatively calm through the hallways, the proximity to Alice's first teacher made Nicole suddenly very nervous. She shifted from foot to foot and Wynonna grinned. 

" _Now_ who's being a wuss?"

Nicole stuck her tongue out, and Wynonna, seemingly renewed with the knowledge that they were both absolutely terrified, pulled her through the little door.

"Hi!" A woman leaned against a squat desk said, smiling warmly. "You must be Alice's parents. The Earps?"

Nicole shifted again, uncomfortable already. "Er, actually--  _she's_ Earp. I'm Haught." She gestured between Wynonna and herself. "Wynonna, Nicole."

The woman looked surprised for half a second, but covered it easily. "Oh! It's nice to meet you, Wynonna and Nicole. I'm sorry, I didn't-- Alice never mentioned any separation at home, so..."

Wynonna made a noise somewhere between a snort and a squeak, but covered it up gracefully. "We, uh-- we're not together." She said, finally. "Nicole's... a good friend."

"We're, um, very accepting, here in 112A! Please, speak freely." The woman, who Nicole gathered was Ms. Kitt, gestured to a pride flag hanging on the wall above a "my family and me" display. Nicole smiled and realized her arm was still intertwined with Wynonna's. 

"Uh, we're not--" she pulled, but Wynonna held steadfastly, perhaps twice as nervous now that she knew Alice's teacher didn't exactly  _get_ their home arrangement. "We're not... gay. I mean,  _I'm_ gay, and she's bi, but we're not... we don't...  _gay_. Together."

Ms. Kitt nodded awkwardly, putting on a brave face like any pre-school teacher should. "Sure," she said, gesturing to the seats in front of her desk, "I, uh. I get it. Not every child in our class has, shall we say... a good situation. At home. So it's nice, at the very least, that Alice does."

Nicole felt Wynonna release a breath and loosen her hold to allow Nicole's arm to slip out as they took their seats. Ms. Kitt took her own seat, behind the desk, and spread out a series of papers in front of her. Most of them were clearly Alice's work, and two were a series of notes, handwritten in a neat tiny font, that Nicole took to be Ms. Kitt's observations on the little girl.

"Alice is absolutely wonderful, by the way, though I'm sure you two know that. She can write her own name fairly well," Ms. Kitt gestured to a few papers with orderly lines and a few traced letters, then one next to them with a tediously scrawled  _ALICE_ in large, uneven lettering. Wynonna made a tiny noise which she would never admit to if questioned after the fact and Nicole grinned.

"It looks like she's progressing pretty well," Nicole inserted before the conversation could go any further. She was used to getting ahead of the ball as sheriff, and she was fairly certain that's what she had to do here. "Can I ask if you've had any issues with her?"

Ms. Kitt hesitated. "Well, she... she does have quite the family picture. Obviously," she began. rushing to finish her thought, " _obviously_ , she has two wonderful parental figures in you two, though she does use the, uh...  _standard_ , I suppose, mommy and daddy when referring to you, which... not to assume, but it seems as if you would both be... mommies."

Wynonna moved to argue, and Nicole steadied her with a hand. "It's the way Alice tends to refer to me, and we'd rather let her make her own decisions than force her to call me anything. So. If that's all..."

Ms. Kitt shook her head. "There is... in the realm of family... some  _other_ things." She reached behind herself, unpinning one of the 'my family and me' pictures. It showed (and was painstakingly, in toddler block letters, labeled to show) Alice in the middle, holding hands with Nicole in her stetson and Wynonna holding an approximation of Peacemaker, with Jeremy and Robin beside them (both labeled UNKLE, as if she had sounded out the word), Gus labled GUS in big fat letters, and three more figures, given big smiles and holding hands with the rest, but otherwise both unlabeled and unremarkable. "She didn't label these three, as you can see," Ms. Kitt began, pointing out the figures, "but I did ask her who they were-- I ask all the children to share their family pictures with the class-- and she told me they were, uh... missing? I asked her who they were, and she said important, but that she didn't know what their names were yet. Can I... is it too personal, I wonder, if I ask who they might be?"

Wynonna and Nicole stilled for a moment. Wynonna was the first to recover. "They're, um... they're my sister, and her biological father, and her..." She looked to Nicole for help.

"Her... other uncle, I guess? Third dad?" Nicole seemed unable to give Xavier Dolls a proper title. Who, in life, had ever been able to, really?

Wynonna nodded. "So, yeah. I guess they're not really named, in her mind. There are pictures of them all over the homestead, and--"

"And she asked about them, the other day, so..." Nicole added.

"So she knows who they are." Wynonna finished. "And that they're important to us. To her. She hasn't met any of them..."

"Yet."

"She hasn't met any of them,  _yet_ , but... but she definitely knows that they're part of her family."

Ms. Kitt tried to cover up her pity with a smile. "Well, uh. In  _the future_ , when Alice discusses her family again... is there something I could say? Or a way you'd like me to refer to them?"

Nicole considered this. "Um... if you could be, not to tell you how to do your job, but if you could be sort of understanding about the fact that she might miss them, or feel they're familial, without having met them? If you could sort of, uh... tread that ground cautiously? If you ask about or refer to her family, I would think you would just mention, uh... Wynonna. And I. And her uncles. And her... Gus."

"Great-aunt," Wynonna put in.

"Gus," Nicole repeated, and Wynonna chuckled.

"Fair," she replied, imagining her daughter saying "great-aunt Gus" instead of just screaming "Gus" at the top of her lungs every time they saw the woman.

"Are they, um... pardon my interrogation, here. But are they...  _passed_?" Ms. Kitt asked carefully, and Wynonna and Nicole looked at each other. They took a beat, having a silent conversation, before replying.

"We aren't sure." Nicole said diplomatically. "They're-- they're  _missing_. It might be that Alice never meets any of them, or it could be that she meets them tomorrow-- that's kind of how the past few years have shaken out. It's uh... better to assume... that they're out there, somewhere, and she will meet them sometime."

"Because they  _are_ ," Nicole heard Wynonna mumble under her breath, and she reached out a hand to her.

"It's a bit of a family issue," Nicole settled on, finally, and Ms. Kitt gave a forced smile.

"Understandable." She replied. "Let's, uh-- let's talk about Alice's identification of shapes."

Wynnonna laced her fingers with Nicole's and offered her a half, sort of, smile. 

 _Sure_ , Nicole thought, _let's please stop talking about our fragile peace_ _._ But aloud, she said, "sounds good. Hit me."


	5. the fifth stage of grief is acceptance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! just one more chapter after this! if you happen to have read this before move on, please rectify that and give that a read after this! it's absolutely amazing.

It had been five years since Waverly and Doc had disappeared, and every day, Wynonna became more and more sure that this was her life now. With her best friend and her daughter, with her daughter's two surviving uncles and one surviving...  _Gus_ , she had tried to find peace beyond the grief they'd begun with. Alice was now seven and growing a mile a minute, and Wynonna had grown used to explaining her relationship with Nicole as co-parenting. Best friends and a kid. My two moms (who aren't in love but do love each other, and also I call one of them dad). 

She digressed. It wasn't and had never been (and was never going to be) an easy thing to explain. 

It was, however, Alice's life-- all she'd ever known, beyond a year and a half with Gus-- and Wynonna would be damned if she didn't make it the best that she could.

It was the one day a year she and Nicole actively took for themselves, a tradition of sending Alice to Gus's for the weekend which had started the year of the disappearance and continued on in an incredibly depressive spirit every year since. They had begun drinking, the first two years, then, sober, had taken to crying. Now, five years since, here they were, making dinner and talking to each other, like a couple of old married wives. Wynonna wouldn't have believed it if you'd told her years ago that  _this_ was where grief would end. A culmination of anger and depression and love, which had resulted in taking this day to care for each other. 

Nicole was stirring a pot of sauce on the stove and Wynonna was chopping vegetables. It felt, even with the absence of Alice, incredibly like home. 

"Earp, pass me the spoon. I think this is done."

Wynonna passed it over and Nicole tried her recipe and grinned. "Yup. Just like Food Network promised."

"Alright, Haughtstuff. Don't preen too much." Wynonna leaned over and tried the sauce herself, making a noise of approval. "Fuck, or do. That's incredible, dude."

Nicole turned off the burner. "I know."

They worked together to assemble two dishes (and leftovers), and took them into the living room to eat. 

"This is nice, Wynonna. For the first time in five years, today's...  _nice_."

Wynonna didn't exactly smile, but her face melted into soft understanding. "Yeah. It is." She paused, shoveling pasta into her mouth, and once she swallowed, spoke up again. "Do you, uh... Do you remember that last day? Before they left?"

Nicole nodded. "Of course."

"Did... did Waverly say anything? To you? Anything... strange. Or out of the ordinary."

"Did Doc?" Nicole countered, but it wasn't harsh. Wynonna shook her head. 

"He didn't know. He had no reason to think up any final remarks."

"Jesus, Wyn." Nicole muttered, but there was little heat behind it. There was hardly ever fighting on this day, not anymore. "Uh... yeah. Waverly, she..." She trailed off, and Wynonna took another bite to let her consider her words. "She... proposed. To me."

" _Nicole_..."

"No, it's, it's okay." And for the first time, though she blinked back tears, she actually did feel something resembling okay as she recounted the moment. "She asked me to marry her. And you know what I think I would've said, if she hadn't gone in that garden?"

Wynonna tilted her head.

"No."

Wynonna choked on her next bite. "Not exactly inspiring confidence in yourself, Haught." Wynonna joked, but her legs didn't move from where they were tucked up against the redhead. "Why would you have turned down my baby sister?"

"We didn't... we  _don't_ know each other well enough. I want to get to know her and love her and, Jesus, I don't know, take her out on another date. Know her for more than a... year and a half? Give or take some demon sludge? I would've wanted to wait until the curse was broken. I would've wanted you to have Alice back first, to see if I still mattered when everything was over. I... once, when I was in the hospital, I tried to tell Waverly I loved her. And she didn't want me to, didn't want me to say it because I thought I was dying. Because she was so certain I'd make it through. And that's the same courtesy I wish she'd given me-- to believe that she could make it through, to not propose because she thought we'd never see each other again."

It had all come out in a rush, and suddenly, Nicole realized she was breathing heavily-- panting.

Wynonna put down her plate and leaned forward. "Hey, red. Cool it. I get it. And she's coming back."

"Yeah," Nicole murmured, thumb running across her empty ring finger, "she is."


	6. movie night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and this is it! I absolutely adore moving on and the way it handles post-s3/Alice coming home/etc, so again PLEASE READ THAT! also, more people please play in this Wynhaught Alice space. 10/10.

Nicole was curled up beside Alice, a blanket draped over them both, with Wynonna pressed up against the other side of the couch, still halfway tucked under the blanket. Jeremy and Robin had taken to two large chairs in the corner, Henry sitting on Jeremy's knee. Movie night was a lifelong tradition of Alice, with every Friday since she'd been around, some sort of movie night having been scraped together. Sometimes, movie nights included Mercedes, or Nedley, or both. Sometimes, they included just Wynonna and Nicole. Early on, they had been some of Nicole's only moments of joy-- still being separate and uncomfortable with Wynonna, times when the two and Alice could relax even a half-step were welcome.

This week, the eight-year-old had chosen Moana-- it was their third take of the Disney movie, but Nicole would never stop saying yes, even if all they watched for the rest of her life was Moana. 

She may be eight, but Alice was still Wynonna and Nicole's little girl, and when she expressed a desire for popcorn, Nicole reached under the blanket and tickled her. "Popcorn?" She asked in a silly voice, a poor imitation of an alien, "What is this  _popcorn_ , you speak of, Earthling?" Alice giggled and dodged her next tickle, as Henry watched in awe.

"Mama! Dad is--  _eep_! -- Dad is  _tickling me_!"

Nicole laughed as Wynonna turned their way and replied, "Sounds rough, Alice. But it also sounds like your  _dad_ isn't tickling you-- it's an  _alien_!"

" _Mama_!"

Nicole kept giggling as she reached out and looped her hand around Wynonna's wrist, loosely.

"Oh no _ooo_! Alice! The aliens! They're getting me _eee_!" Wynonna screeched dramatically, and Nicole used her available hand to tickle Alice. 

Between giggles, Alice tried in vain to karate chop her mom free. " _Eep!_ Mama! Don't let them get you!"

Wynonna sat up straight and took on a similar silly voice to Nicole. "There is no Mama, only tickle alien." She replied, reaching for Alice's other side to help Nicole in her tickle quest.

" _Eep!_ Uncle Jeremy _yyyy_! Uncle Ro--  _eep! --_ Uncle Robin! He _eeee_ nry! Help!"

But Alice's uncles stayed still, ever the good sports. "Sorry, Alice." Jeremy intoned, "I think we've been held captive by your tickle aliens! I can't move!"

"Me neither!" Robin agreed, grinning at his husband.

" _Eep!_ You  _guys_! Mama! Daddy!"

Finally, Nicole broke, falling backward dramatically. "Oof," she exclaimed, dropping against the pillow behind her, "Alice, I-- I broke... I broke free of the alien... you have to," fake cough, "save your mama."

Freed from one side, Alice launched herself at her mother. "Hi-ya!" She shouted, and Wynonna valiantly attempted to continue her tickle crusade, until her daughter wrapped her arms tightly around her. "The only way to break mama free is...  _love_!" She cried dramatically, and Wynonna grinned over her shoulder at Nicole, dropping the act. 

"Thanks, babygirl. You saved me!" Wynonna kissed Alice on the head and Alice hopped back down to her perch on the couch.

"Now, I believe a certain alien conqueror wanted...  _popcorn_ , was it?" Nicole asked, and Alice cheered. Nicole stood from the couch and padded into the kitchen, setting a bag in the microwave as she listened to the main title screen of Moana replay for the nine billionth time. Someone knocked on the door and Nicole heard Wynonna groan, getting up from the couch to yell something to Mercedes on the other side. Suddenly, Wynonna's words died out, and Nicole felt her ears prick up to listen in. "Wyn!" She called out, so she knew she was listening, "who's at the door?" She took the popcorn out of the microwave and headed cautiously back toward the couch. "Come back!"

"Nicole!" Wynonna yelled, her words coming out choked, "Come out here!"

"Nicole-- this must be serious if you aren't calling me 'Haught Daddy." She joked, fighting to keep her voice light for Alice's sake as she rushed to Wynonna's side. As soon as she came up beside Wynonna, though, her voice died in her throat.

"Do you see them too," Wynonna asked shakily, and Nicole's eyes felt as wide as saucers.

"Yes." She didn't trust her voice, but she did reach out for Waverly, tears springing to her eyes as soon as they connected. She felt Wynonna's arms tighten around herself and Waverly and matched her best friend sob for sob. When they finally did break apart, Nicole knew Wynonna was greeting the other two (and she would too, in due time), but her focus was entirely on Waverly. Waverly, who was  _here_ and  _real_ and  _solid_. She looked her up and down, hands staying pinned to Waverly at all times as she took in her dirtied and cold body-- shaking, but  _here_. 

"Mama?" Nicole heard, the voice of an eight-year-old who meant so much to her trying to work out what was going on. Nicole's tears choked her and heavied her chest as Wynonna lifted the girl, though it wasn't easy, to meet the eyes of the three she'd come to know through images.

"Alice, baby, this is your family. They're finally home." Wynonna said gently, and Nicole felt Wynonna's hip bump hers, seeking comfort. She leaned toward her family--  _part_ of her family.

"Just like you said, Mama!" Alice cheered, and Nicole felt Wynonna relax a hair.

"Yes, babygirl," Wynonna replied, kissing Alice's forehead, "just like I said."

Nicole felt suddenly distant again as the others said hello to her little girl, greeting her for the first time since she was a baby. Nicole witnessed the scene, but... differently. A little to the left. In her body, but off-center. Her soul shifted slightly back into place when Alice told Waverly her "mama and daddy" missed her so much. Doc asked after "daddy" and Nicole felt her face flush with color.

"That's me." She said, watching Alice beam like the sun. "Alice calls me dad."

Alice moved on to say hello to Doc, but Nicole watched Waverly's eyes stay trained on her, awe filling them at her explanation. She knew, even still slightly disassociating, that her position as "daddy" was safe with Alice and that the three returning family members were each, in their own ways, impressed and confused at the turn of events-- which was more than okay with Nicole, being that she had these three back to know that. 

She felt more than saw Jeremy and his family fall into position at her and Wynonna's backs. Robin, incredible feat of a human that he was, managed to usher the group inside. When they were all finally seated, Moana on low volume in the background, Nicole tried to readjust and find her ground again, her hand finding Wynonna's as Wynonna's voice broke explaining the timeline. She was still off-center, but she felt Wynonna squeeze her hand appreciatively as Dolls steered the conversation away from the topic. 

"The curse?" Dolls asked, and Nicole felt righted again, but still unable to speak, tightening her hold on Wynonna in lieu of being able to say "she did it, she broke it, for you and me and her daughter and the world." Wynonna flexed her hand and made a familiarly sly comment about Nicole ("Sheriff Hotsauce") keeping her in the department as a deputy.

“Be serious, Wynonna. You helped me. She did this all on her own. She-- she helped me out of some really dark times.” Nicole said, finding her voice again.

Things were... different. _Again_. And Nicole didn't know what would change.  _Again_. 

That night, she crept into Wynonna's bed, finding more comfort with the Earp she knew for six years than with the one who she'd lost for the same amount of time. Sure, she was thrilled Waverly was back-- she wanted to hold her and never let her go-- but six years changes a person. Six years of routine and love and stability makes a person want to hold onto that rock in a storm-- especially when that storm is this heavy. And things were easier for Waverly-- not the easiest, obviously, but the difference between a week and six years was magnificently large. Nicole had grieved while Waverly had simply... missed. While that night, Nicole and Wynonna curled easily, familiarly, into each other, that morning, facing the world, they found they had to explain themselves. 

Explaining it to Waverly felt hard. Waverly clearly hadn't steeled herself for so much change, and her questions about if she and Wynonna were together seemed borne out of misunderstanding of what six years alone together did to two people. She hadn't meant to yell, not really, but she felt she needed to protect Wynonna and her relationship. Calling Wynonna her "rock" was an understatement. She wished she could explain to anyone what Wynonna was to her-- it seemed Wynonna had a better answer, calling her "Alice's other parent," which happened to encapsulate so much of their relationship to them, even if it didn't to anyone else. Jeremy said "platonic soulmate," and maybe he wasn't too far off. She and Wynonna shared an eye roll while the others laughed, but ultimately? It felt true. Nicole would go to bat and die for this woman, she loved her with all her heart, loved  _her daughter_ with all her heart--  _their_ daughter-- and somehow, that felt much deeper than words could allow. Maybe their souls were made of the same stuff, or whatever soulmate stories liked to say. 

As the laughter died down, Nicole nudged Wynonna with her elbow and quirked an eyebrow, a silent conversation.

_You okay?_

_I will be. You?_

_I will be too._


End file.
